𝐃𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘.
/djuːˈbʌɪɪti/
noun.
1. the state or quality of being doubtful; uncertainty.
2. god, emily's just so freakin' confused all the time!
❝barnaby, i will skin you alive.❞
[ the 100, seasons 1 - 2 ]
[ bellamy blake x oc ]
FIRST INSTALLMENT...
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1.10. | THREE EYED MOUSE
___
"READY TO FUCKIN' PARTY?" I smirk triumphantly, giving Jasper a sideways glance as he picks up a huge canteen of Monty's moonshine.
"Hell yes," Jasper replies, wiggling his eyebrows underneath the goggles that sit over his eyes.
As we prepare to leave the tent, Monty chuckles, "Good luck with the crowd."
With that, the two of us head out, pushing the flaps aside when I've grabbed a cup for myself. With overly excited, obnoxious cheers, we attract the attention of everyone around us as we show up amidst the delinquents, a trail of smoke shadowing us as we jump around, Jasper shouting, "Monty strikes again! Hey! Call this batch Unity juice!"
It is only in this moment that I truly understand why Monty wished us luck, as people begin circling around and trapping us, a bunch of juvies waiting impatiently for Jasper to fill their cups.
"Who's thirsty?" I holler, just barely escaping by squeezing through the crowd and calling over more people who joyfully strut over to the boy in charge of the alcohol. Once everyone is satisfied, their cups filled to the brim with moonshine, I ask Jasper to save some for me.
___
"Hey, Clarke, moonshine is gross," I whine through a hiccup as the blonde chuckles by my side, her arm kept solid around my torso as we make our way over to Bellamy.
"I know, you've told me that, like, 30 times in the past few minutes," my friend shakes her head in amusement, "I will get you to your tent, I just need to talk to Bellamy real quick."
I let out a sigh, lazily following her as we reach the aforementioned man, who stands a good few yards away from everyone, watching the celebration of Unity Day from afar.
"Hey," Clarke greets Bellamy, "The comms are still dead. They cut out during the pageant."
"Best Unity Day ever," he allows his lips to twist into a smile, his gaze slipping over me, "Looks like someone has had one too many drinks."
Clarke chuckles halfheartedly, but I just huff, "I tried having fun, but Monty's brew is so disgusting it kills the mood."
"Okay, party animal, you need sleep," Clarke sighs, watching my eyes start to droop as I lean further into her for support.
"Nope, I don't need sleep. I need my dad. And my grandma. I miss them," I hiccup again, not noticing the softening looks on both my companions' faces as they exchange glances.
Clarke nods in understanding, pulling my uncoordinated body closer to her's as she returns to Bellamy, her mood visibly darkening, something even my drunk self notices, "Do you really think now is a good time to be having a party? I mean, the Grounder is out there."
